Revenge is Best Served Cold
by Ivette Boveda
Summary: Working with a couple of medical examiners and an ex-cop turned bar owner, Maxine helps out in a case involving the murders of several social workers in Boston, . rnrnChapter 7 has been posted!
1. Chapter 1

Garret Macy,a medical examiner from Boston, slowly sipped his coffee, while looking at the menu of the diner. A conference had brought him to Hartford. Laying the menu down on the Formica counter, he got the attention of a waitress.  
  
"I'd like the ham omelet" he said Unfortunately, the menu was shuffled the wrong way, spilling his coffee.  
  
"Damn!!!" Maxine screeched, frantically using napkins to wipe her skirt.  
  
"I'm sorry!" Quickly Garret tried to help, but the woman shook her head, with a kind of forced smile.  
  
"I'll just have to go home, and change before I return to work."  
  
"Here is my cell, you can use it" He handed her the phone, it was the least he could do.  
  
"Why thank you, I believe that I will " She grabbed the phone as if it were her own.  
  
After eating his breakfast, and getting his phone back, Garret left. That afternoon, he hung out at the home of an old medical school classmate, Donald who showed off his new foster daughter, a red haired three year old, sitting on a high chair. The two classmates sat on opposite couches, while sipping wine.  
  
"Reminds me of my daughter at that age. Enjoy her childhood while you can. It goes by fast!" Garret told him.  
  
"Ding dong!" rang the door bell, interrupted their conversation. Donald excused himself to get the door.  
  
"Hey Maxine. Great to see ya!" He had gotten used to the random home visits. Maxine tried to swallow her irritation at seeing the clumsy man. The 'accident' had spoiled her day.  
  
"I just wanted to see how you were doing." She smiled.  
  
"Great! An old med school classmate of mine is here. Garret, Maxine, Maxine, Garret."  
  
The two shook hands out of politness.  
  
"Who would have guessed?" Maxine thought to herself.  
  
After Maxine did her usual routine of inspection, small talk and questions, she excused herself and left.  
  
"Mia and I are so lucky to have her as our caseworker" Donald told Garret. "She's fair and a real pro!"  
  
Two weeks later, Garret found himself in charge of a case of three social workers being killed in a period within a month. Next to each of the bodies lay this typed note:  
  
"Revenge is best served cold"  
  
Reluctantly, Garret went to call his friend, Donald, who gladly gave him her work number. Perhaps she could provide some insight.

"What's up Garret?"  
  
"Hey Donald! I was wondering if you could please give me the number of your case worker? See I've got a case involving three victims who were social workers. Perhaps, she could tell us if any of their charges, or some birth parents might have been involved."  
  
"Sure...let me find it. She's been at this for almost thirty years."  
  
With dread, he called her number a while later, figuring that she'd have bad feelings, but hoped that professionalism would win out.  
  
"DCF? This is Maxine Gray?" She scanned some files as she answered the phone.  
  
"Hi!...How are you......This is awkward, but...."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I'm working on a case where three social workers were killed within a one month period, and perhaps you could provide insight...?"  
  
"I suppose I could access their files......" she wanted to help if she could.  
  
"That would be great, thank you! Donald told me that you were a pro."  
  
"Flattery isn't necessary. I already agreed to help."  
  
Quickly, Garrett gave her his work number, said goodbye and hung up.

"Who was that? Max, Jordan's father asked. He wanted to help in the case, as one of the victims was the daughter of a good friend of his. He had been standing at the doorway while Garrett talked on the phone.  
  
"Maxine Gray, a social worker. She agreed to look the victims' case files."  
  
" Jordan and I got some stuff too, could you have her come here?"  
  
"I don't think so, Max, she's in Hartford, and she needs time to obtain and study those files."

"You could call her, touch bases. I'll give her your number."  
  
"Great!"  
  
"What kind of stuff have ya got?"  
  
"As it happens, neighbors of Cheryl McDunn claimed that she and the second victim Susan Reyes fought quite a bit in the hallway in the last weeks before they were murdered."  
  
"Could they say if it was work related?" Garrett started to think that maybe the three could have been in on something suspicious together.  
  
"They say it sounded mixed."  
  
Meanwhile, Maxine tried to find a discreet way to obtain the case files, she talked a rookie co-worker,named Ann, who had her brown hair in a bob, and wore a plaid skirt.  
  
"So....your sister works child services in Boston?" She sat near the woman's desk.  
  
"Yes, for five years, Why?"  
  
"I've been asked to help in a murder investigation"  
  
"The three social workers?" Her sister had told her about it, resulting in insomnia.  
  
"Yes. Perhaps I could...." Maxine shrugged. "give some insight."  
  
"I'll be more than happy to, Maxine." Ann looked up from her keyboard.  
  
"Just be discreet, people can be....territorial"  
  
"Right"  
  
"Thank you."  
  
By the end of the day, Ann had an answer for her.  
  
"My sister says it's best if you can go to Boston." She told Maxine quietly at one of the many corridors.  
  
"Guess I will have to." Maxine's interest in the case had increased when Garret told her what Max had found.  
  
The next morning, Maxine quickly packed her things, and ate breakfast. Her luggage stood near the kicten table, filled with the dingyness and wrinkles of age.  
  
"Ma....What's this?" Amy asked when she ran downstairs to eat.  
  
"I'm going to Boston."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"I've been asked to help on an investigation." Maxine kept an eye on her food. "Three social workers were murdered in one month. I need to go study files and help if I can."  
  
"Well, there are no shortage of people pissed at the system."  
  
By the next afternoon, she was in Garret's office, Max was there as well.  
  
"Thank you for coming" Garrett told her.  
  
"It's no problem at all." She sat on a visitor's chair next to Max, who found himself liking her. "I hope to get at least some files by tonight."  
  
"Perhaps I could join you?" the former detective grinned, wishing that the women's hair hadn't been tied in a bun.  
  
"That'll be alright" Maxine forced a smile. "The files will have to do with minors, and you know....."  
  
"Easy boy......." Garrett thought.  
  
"Perhaps we can discuss my findings....over lunch?"  
  
"We can just discuss your findings here." Sterness entered her voice.  
  
"Fine.....My daughter and I found that......"  
  
"Hey! Sorry I'm late!" Jordan sighed as she opened the door and slipped in, wearing the blue surgical suit used for autopsies. She looked to thin for Maxine's taste. "Hey dad!"  
  
"Maxine, this is Jordan, Max's daughter. She's an M.E here."  
  
"I taught her everything she knows about being a detective" Max boasted.  
  
"He sure did!" Jordan winced, when she noticed that Max hadn't impressed the woman. "Anyway...thanks for coming...Maxine. "  
  
"As we were saying....." Garrett piped in. "Jordan and Max talked to the neighbors of one of the victims who stated that she and the other victim would have loud fights in the hallway..."  
  
"Really?..." Woody interrupted as he came in.  
  
"Maxine, this is...Woody, a homicide detective."  
  
"They could have been a part of something. The note saying 'Revenge is best serve cold' was next to all of their bodies" Woody commented.  
  
"How were they killed?" Maxine asked.  
  
"Shots to the head." Jordan told her.  
  
"Well....I can't really contribute to what you have, until I see the files. I managed to find someone willing to help me."  
  
At eight that evening, Megan, Ann's sister, came with a large box of stuffed vanilla folders to Maxine's hotel room.  
  
"Let me help you with that."  
  
"Thank you" They hefted it next to a small queen bed. "My boss was working late and..."  
  
"I understand."  
  
"Good luck! I've gotta go. These as just some of the files for each of them."  
  
"It's a start"  
  
Two hours later, Maxine was startled by the doorbell. The small table next to the bed was covered in papers.  
  
"Room Service!" A familiar voice called. Maxine rolled her eyes, and opened the door. She sense a whiff of sweet and sour sauce.  
  
"Hello." Max said, carrying cartons of chinese takeout in a brown paper bag. "Thought you might be hungry."  
  
"No I am not."  
  
"Any luck?"  
  
"They all dealt with their share of people, who hated them."  
  
"Anyway you could give me some names so I can check'm out? Maybe a few of these people got together and....." Max quickly switched to his professional side.  
  
"I've got a few possible suspects, two of whom did make threats, claiming to have had 'connections. Several others have been jailed for violent offenses."  
  
"Did any of them have a case in common.?"  
  
"There was some partnering, but not with all three at once. Their killer didn't necessary have to be someone in their charge. It could have been anyone angry enough at the system."  
  
"Good point. Let's role play."  
  
"Role play....."  
  
"We need to try to get into the killer's head. I'll be Reyes, and you'll be the killer."  
  
"They were killed on the street....So.....here goes.....I'm walking ....somewhere, tired from a long day at work" Max said, picturing Reyes with a gray skirt, and shirt.  
  
"I....see you...from the corner of my eye buying takeout for someone without bother to ask them if that is what they want......." She kept one eye open.  
  
"Maxine..!" He glared at her.  
  
"Fine...I see you......"  
  
"What do you feel....do you know me?  
  
"Hatred, I suppose, perhaps I was taken from my parents, put in foster care, abused, jailed, or my children were taken from me."  
  
"Why me?"  
  
"You........."  
  
The ringing of the phone disrupted their focus.  
  
TBC


	2. Chapter 2

"Maxine? Hey! It's Jordan.  I just wondered if ya got any leads?" Jordan called from the morgue, wearing the blue surgical outfit that she wore for autopsies.

"Not at the moment."

"Did they all work on the same case at one time or another?"

"Two of them did."

"What kind of case?" This gave Jordan some hope.

"Child molestation. Nothing came of it because the victims were considered too young to testify."

"Pervs like that don't usually pick on people their own size." Jordan said indignant at the injustice done to those kids.. "All we know at this end is that they were all shot in the back of the head by someone taller then them. The police behaviorist can only say the obvious, that it's  someone who got screwed big time by the system, and knows how to track and kill. However, this isn't your typical serial killer."

"How?"

"None of the victims were raped, tortured, or mutilated in any way."

"I see….." Maxine wrinkled her forehead in puzzlement.  "Perhaps it was someone with a case of burnout?" Maxine suggested, remembering the time, when a burnt-out public defender had threatened her daughter, a judge, in the courtroom. "It could be a social worker, lawyer,…..any number of people who work or used to within the system."

"You mean someone could have gone postal? Jordan asked. "People just don't snap like that. The families didn't mention any dangerous enemies." As she finished the sentence, Garrett, wearing a surgical outfit, grimly gave Jordan a new case file, urgently pointing at it. "Hang on a moment." She put the phone on her shoulder.

"There's been another victim. Same M.O." Garrett informed her. Jordan's eyes widened, and she felt guilty for not having solved the mystery. "I gotta go, there's… been new 'developments' on this case. I'll call you later"

"What happened?"

"Jordan said that the methods of the…serial killer are not typical and there's been a 'development' that she must look into." Maxine sighed, as did Max, both realized that 'development' had been Jordan's euphemism for another murder.

"Let's take another go at this" he suggested, both were more determined to  figure everything out.

"I'll need coffee." She mutter, puffing away at a cigarette, in a vain effort to calm herself and ease her guilt.

"I know of a place!"

Soon, they were at Max's bar, the interior was quite nice, with wooden floors. There were bar stools, along with tables and chairs. A myriad of conversations peppered the atmosphere, as did the gushing, and pouring of drinks.

"This is a bar…"

"I've got coffee in the back. Sit here." He pointed to a barstool.

"Okay….."

"I own this place."

"That's nice…." She wryly responded, with a fake smile, putting some files on the bar.

"There you go!" He came back a few minutes later with two cups that had the phrase 'kiss me I'm Irish' in green letters. Maxine drank the coffee with gusto, seeing what the cup said only afterward. She scrawled at Max, who just laughed.

"Let's get back to work" Maxine put on her glasses, which had been hanging in her coat pocket.

"Got any kids?" He wanted to get to know her better.

"Three. You?"

"…It's been just me and Jordan for a long time." Max did not really want to talk about his elder son, whom he had given up for adoption. The issue seemed too painful and complicated.

Out of the corner of his eye, Max saw Antony McDunn,  a friend and the father of one of the victims, carrying some papers.

"Frank…..great to see ya!" he gave his friend a pat on the shoulder, noticing how his old friend's eyes looked dead; life's spark had left along with his daughter.

"Thanks, …….I..still can't believe it….." Like Max, Tony had been widowed since his own daughter was young. His work at the juvenile division of the Boston police department, had inspired her to pursue social work. He also had a son "I thought that TJ would be the one I'd  bury…. him being a cop and all."

"I know……"

"I have something to tell you…..I didn't want to share it before, but at this point, I'm desperate."

"Okay…" Max said softly. "I'd like you to meet Maxine. She was asked to help out in this case. She's a social worker." The two went to the bar.

"Maxine…..this is  Tony, the father of one of the victims."

"I'm sorry for your loss." She told him with great delicacy. "I will do everything I can to help.

"He has some information, that he wanted to share."

"Would you like to go somewhere more private?" she asked.

"How about one of the booths on the far end?" Max suggested.

Soon they were seated there, and began to talk.

"At first I didn't notice, ya know, she always got personally involved with her cases, but..I overhead a……." he paused painfully. "I found out that she got romantically involved with a foster father. They met, when she placed a kid with him."

Both  looked at him with surprise.

"I  had one or two similar cases when I was a supervisor." Maxine commented.

"Did he threaten her in any way?"

"No."

"Does he still live in Boston?"

"Yeah."

"I found some letters from him, here they are, I usually respect my kids privacy as adults, but………" Tony covered his face with his right hand.

"You're only doing what any normal parent would" Maxine said softly, covering the sadness she felt herself.

Maxine and Max both looked at the letters. 

" Nope, this fella was no stalker." Max told them.

"You don't see anything??" Tony asked, desperately. He hoped that his friend's experience as a homicide detective would shed some light on the letters.

"Was he married?" Max asked. "Did he have a girlfriend?

"Nope"

"Do you have any other paperwork?", Maxine inquired.

"Most of the pertinent stuff was taken away"

"Did she place a lot of children with him?" she asked.

"A few, he was licensed for  temp fostering." Tony told her

"Could you give us his address?"

"I got it here" he put a folded piece of lined paper on the table. " I had a friend check out his record; it was clean. If you don't mind, I promised TJ I'd have dinner with him…."

After he left, the two talked about what to do next.

"I've got an idea." Max said. "You go do a random home inspection"

"It doesn't work that way." Maxine told him. "It's the job of the case worker assigned to the child."

"The rules could be different here." He shrugged. "or just say that the case was given to you"

"What if he were to call? Then our ruse would be discovered." She pointed out.

"You could pretend to be the case worker for a neighbor……Look, I'll scope out the neighborhood, and get ya something."

"That sounds better." Maxine was willing to bend the rules, to get to the bottom of this case.

The next afternoon, they went to the house as planned. Max filled her in on the supposed 'case' in his car. She wore a simple blue shirt and skirt outfit.

"There's a ninety  year-old women who lives about two houses down, named Janet Reddington. You can say that….."

"I 've done this many times…….." she rolled her eyes.

"Okay…..stall and ask as many questions as you can."

"And you stay quiet……" She worried that he'd revert to the wrong type of questioning.

"Fine. Did you bring your work I.D?"

"Yes. Not to mention a vanilla folder, and a notebook"

Soon, they arrived, walked up the path, and rang the doorbell. A man in his thirties, with brown hair, and hazel eyes opened the squeaky door.

"Good afternoon. I'm Maxine..Kent. ,the Case worker for Mrs. Reddington. This is my associate Max Connor." She nervously  quickly flashed  her I.D. While she did bend the rules often,  impersonation was not one of her usual methods.

"Did something happen to her?"

"We've…gotten a call."

"I always see her on her porch, or taking walks around the neighborhood."  

"Could we come in….?" Maxine asked gently.

"Sure!" He lead them to  a living room, laden with shades of green and brown. Talking, laughing, and the sounds of the television alerted them to the presence of children.

Sitting on a  love seat, the two discreetly looked around.

"So, she seems well taken care of?" Maxine continued her questioning.

"Yeah."

"Does she often get visitors?"

"Well, a cleaning lady comes in once a week, and her kids visit her as well. I see their cars parked."

Max thought asking where the restroom was, as a way to explore, but soon saw that the presence of the kids would make it hard. Maxine saw this too, and discreetly stopped her questioning and they left.

"Did you notice anything?" Max asked on their way back.

"No."

" Same here, but I could be wrong. Let's go to my bar, see if Jordan's got anything."

As soon as they arrived, Max got her a glass of red wine, and called Jordan from a phone behind the beer fountains.

"How'd it go?" she asked, from a desk at the morgue.

"Nothing……You?"

"I got Nigel to look up the name you gave me. He hacked into some databases, and nothing came up." She paced around the desk.

"Even  the child services one?"

"Yeah. He's considered a foster parent '_par excellence' _. Where did you get his name?"

"What about the autopsy?"

"Nothing that you can't figure out by looking at her." She could take a hint.

"Could Nigel get more files about the latest victim, so Maxine could take a look at 'em? Her experience eye might catch something."

"Sure….I'll see what I can do."

With that, they said their goodbyes and hung up.


	3. Chapter 3

"What did she say?" Maxine asked him, when he got off the phone sat  across from her..

"The autopsy didn't reveal anything new." He told her.

"What now?"

"Keep on ….working, and hope for a big lead."

 A very loud boom, halted their conversation.

"Get down!" Max ordered as he tackled Maxine  and almost threw her to the ground; glass shattered, voices screamed, fires started. Cautiously, he got up.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah….."Looking pale, Maxine managed to suppress her fear.  "We'd better put out the fires"

Heat, smoke, crackled glass, and burning flesh thickened  the atmosphere like  humidity.

"You three! Help me with the fires!" Max called out to three young guys, students from nearby Harvard celebrating the end of an important exam. "Maxine! Go help the injured!"

Frantically, Max, the three young men, and a few others tried to put out the flames with fire extinguishers, baking powder, water, thick material, whatever they could think of and find,

"Heeelp me!" a women screamed, and ran around; her head peering out flames all over her body, save for her face. In a panic, someone roughly turned the extinguisher on her. "Aaaaaaaaaa!" The force on her skin, made the pain worse.

"Stop that! Are you insane?" Maxine reprimanded the person. "She's not a piece of furniture!"

 The fires, kept on; heat closed in on them all.

 "Max! We got the injured out! We should all evacuate!" Maxine told him.

"No! " he refused with several coughs. "You all can go….I'm going to save this place if it's the last thing I do!" For him, giving up now would be a sign that he had lost.

"Give me that!" Maxine yelled, grabbing a fire extinguisher from Max.

"No!"

"She's right!" a patron said, helping her confiscate the fire extinguisher.

Minutes later, firefighters arrived, as did the paramedics.

"Get out! We'll take over from here!" a uniformed fire fighter, with full fire gear, from the black rubber boots, to the clear face protector ordered, accompanied by similarly dress companions.

Quickly, they all left the building, soot faced and coughing.

"Here you go…" a paramedic said to Maxine, holding an oxygen masked, connected to a small machine.

"I'm fine"

"What happened?" Jordan asked as she ran to her soot-faced father some time after the emergency personnel arrived. Her office had gotten the call about two D.O.A.s  She was relieved to see her father alive.

"bomb." Both tried to ignore the smell of cooked human flesh.

"How are you doing?" Maxine asked, still not processing what happened.

"I'm alive" Max still quite hadn't accepted that night's events.

"Well, let's clean up…." She had the need to keep busy.

"Look, I'll be back as soon as I can, dad" Jordan told him just before leaving.

"Just help me figure out who did this!!" he commanded. "Maxine! Don't worry about cleaning!"

"I insist……." She lit a cigarette, and continued to sweep; it kept her mind off things.

"Max! Sorry about your bar! I just heard about it. Did you know that the word 'revenge is cool' was painted on one of your outside walls in small letters?"

"No……" the three looked at each other.

"Show us!" Maxine commanded him, they saw it. A police line protected that part of the wall, in small green painted letters.

"I asked for the works; fingerprints, handwriting analysis, you name it." Woody assured them. "I've assigned a detail to your house, and Maxine's hotel room."

"No one saw anything??" Max asked.

"No…."

"Any chance…this could be connected to the investigation?" Maxine asked.

"Not likely…..as an ex cop Max would have lots of enemies, and perp probably got the idea for the message from reading about the murders.

"Serial killers don't just up and radically change their style" Max added.

"Someone from the bomb squad is comin" Woody told then. "Let's see what she says.

Woody got their statements, while officers on the scene questioned other witnesses.

"I'll be back later" he told them.

Sometime later,   someone from the bomb squad came, and did a preliminary investigation.

While they waited for the results, Max and Maxine did some salvage work.

"Gonna take a while to rebuild this place…….." he sighed looking through heaps of rubbish.

"I can imagine……"

"Hey dad!" Jordan came in.

"Please tell me you got something!" Max remarked grumpily.

"Two heart attacks….got something Woody?" she called her friend the minute she saw him.

"We're in the process of checking  transaction records." He told them.

Two days later, Woody had the answer for the two, who were at Jordan's apartment, going over files while eating.

"What have ya got?" Jordan asked him. The three were having dinner. None of them had gotten much sleep lately.

" The bar was bombed by a rather diluted Molotov." Woody said. "Which, makes the case a bit more difficult."

"Yeah…." Max said "You don't need special equipment, just gasoline in a jar, topped with cotton or paper. Once ya light'm they're like grenades"

"How long do they take to explode?" Jordan asked, needing the information. This could tell her where, or through what trajectory the Molotov was thrown.

"It depends I guess……." Max told her.

"What about the message on the wall?" Maxine asked.

"No fingerprints, and it was done with plain old spray paint."

"So it takes no training to use a Molotov?" the social worker needed to make sure she had the facts straight.

"Not really" Woody said. "Though of course you need great reflexes and aim."

"This guy knew something about chemistry, and didn't intend to kill dad." Jordan countered. "He made just the right mixture to just blow part of the place up, rather than the whole block.."

"You can't make a Molotov that strong." Wood commented in disbelief.

"With the right mixture yeah."

"Like with plane fuel?" Woody's mental wheels started  up.

"Wouldn't that be hard to come by?" Maxine liked feeling that they were all onto something.

"It wouldn't have to be stolen from a major airport" Max explained.  "Have you checked out cases where Molotovs were used?"

"I've got people on that" Woody told him. "But not any so far in this state anyway. The closest we got was a case involving some dumb high school kids, getting injured in the process of making one for the 'Senior Prank'."

"Puts TPing in its proper perspective doesn't it?" Jordan remarked wryly.

"So Maxine….have you dealt a lot disturbed kids, who like fires, or bombs?"

"I've handled my share of juvenile arsonists."

"Any one…stick in your mind?" Wood continued. "Like say, a kid who set fire to cats?". Perhaps an old case had come to haunt Maxine, retelling the story about the kids made him think of exploring this possibility again.

"A few. One child I met was so disturbed that he claimed that a leprechaun sat on his shoulder, telling him to burn things."  She told them. "With great difficulty I was able to put him in a state juvenile psychiatric ward…"

"Arsonists don't do Malotovs." Max informed Woody, knowing where the latter was trying to go.

. "Look, I think Dad's place was bombed by someone who took advantage of these serial murders…..so that we'd blame it on the same perp thinking that  he is putting us off guard by throwing a grenade and spraying half-assed copy-cat note.." Jordan figured, sipping some coffee.

" So you're theory is that the message on Max's wall is a hoax of a hoax?" Woody ascertained.

"Yep."

"I could buy that" Max thought aloud.

"I suppose I could too" Maxine croaked, cigarette in hand.

"So…..here is the scenario" Woody started to narrate. "He siphons gas from somewhere, puts some in a jar, puts some paper or cotton on it, goes to a nearby ally, lights it …and you know the rest. The most likely type of fuel  he'd use would be the gas in his car. Max, you told me that you've had disputes in the bar, but not that serious?"

"Yeah." The bar owner told him. "Sometimes I get hotheads who get mad when I refuse to sell'm booze because they don't have the proper I.D, but it's more likely that they'd either rough me up, vandalize the bar, or set a fire to it the regular way. I doubt most of 'em would even know what a Molotov was."

"Maybe one of these guys knows his military history" Woody  countered.

"Frankly, I can't believe that you don't need training to use this weapon." Maxine opinionated. "The fumes coming from the jar are certain to cause an explosion once you lit the match" She had figured this from her knowledge that gas leaks in homes can cause explosions with just the smallest spark or fire.

"Actually. I just remembered: you put a rag, not paper into the jar." Max told them. "and  it has to stay dry until the moment of impact"

"Someone's been watching the History Channel" Jordan teased.

Meanwhile, back in Connecticut, Maxine's three adult children, Amy, Peter, and Vincent, as well as Gillian, her daughter-in-law, sat in the living room, pale and distraught, disagreeing on whether Maxine should be notified right away about her dog. All looked pale, though Peter kept his calm better than the others.

"Mom  has the right to know!" Vincent argued. His blue eyes flashed with impatience. "She loved that dog!"

 The  basset hound  had been beheaded, branded by a hot iron stabbed several times, and full of stumps where legs had been. Amy, to her horror, had  found the dog  on the lawn after two days of vainly searching for the canine.  While waiting for his partner to finish throwing up on the lawn, the young women, in her CT humane society shirt, chased off crows and swarms of flies off the corpse, already reeking with the smell of decomposition.  The police had ordered them not to touch it. A couple of officers took pictures of the scene, putting the yellow 'police line' tape around the dog.

"I'm am sorry to disturb you. I'm Detective Jones." a woman said, flashing a police badge as she came in.

"You're here about a dog??" Peter, asked incredulously, surprised to see a plain clothes officer.

"Today, it's  the family pet, tomorrow, it could be Judge Gray or one of you." She explained. "We'll need to do an autopsy."

"They do that on animals?" Peter asked.

"Yeah, mostly they are done   on cows, chickens and such to check for diseases, but given the….odd nature of this crime, vets from the CT Humane Society have agreed to do it.  "They'll be asking your vet for the dog's medical files. A vet should be coming here soon."

"My mom is helping to investigate a murder case. Could this be related?" Peter asked, worried.

"What kind of case?"

"Some social workers have been murdered in a close succession in Boston."

"Serial killers usually don't  regress from humans to animal victims." The detective told him.  "So the odds are low."

"What if it's like  a warning?"

"The SH on the animal's body could stand for the name of someone in one of your mother's cases. We'll  get in touch with her supervisor."

Soon, the vet, Dr. Anderson arrived. She had a private practice, but did a shift now and then at the CT humane society clinic.  The sight of the dog made her queasy, but she swallowed hard and put on some plastic surgical gloves.

"Detective Jones" She greeted the vet. "Thanks for coming. The dog was owned by a federal Judge. Can ya tell me anything?"

"There seems to be no blood , cauterization, or bruising." The vet took a good look, getting down on her knees. "I'd say the amputations were done post mortem The same goes for the stab wounds and the…beheading."

"How long ago did the dog die?"

"At least two days."

"Is there any way to get a model name or manufacturer on the iron branding?"

"I wouldn't know, sorry. However, I'll take the dog to my private practice and get some tissue samples to run tests.

"What killed the dog then?" Jones put her finger on her right cheek in confusion. In similar cases she's heard of or been on, the animal would be tortured or mutilated while still alive. Anderson felt puzzled as well.

"Some sort of poison, probably. I'll need do the autopsy. She passed out gloves to the two volunteers. "Follow my car, it's the red Sedan."

"I'll send someone over there to brush for fingerprints" Jones told the vet. "Make sure you give one of the officers  the address of your practice. Anything else you can tell me?"

"All the mutilation was done by a large knife….as opposed to a saw."

Quietly, Jones went to see the family.

"The vet has done a preliminary exam." She announced.

"And..?" Peter  interupted awkward silence.

"The mutilation of your dog, happened most after he died." Jones said grimly, though secretly relieved and grateful, that for a change, she was talking to a family about the death of a dog, not a loved one.

"Oh my God!" Vincent exclaimed.

"Who would do such a thing???" Gillian wondered aloud.

"Estimated time of death was two days ago. The vet will take the dog to her private practice for the full autopsy."

"No! We don't want Socrates  to be cut up like that!" Amy argued, belatedly started to react to things.

"But Judge Gray….." the detective tried to argue.

"Mandatory autopsy laws do not apply to animals...unless…..it involves a disease or something." Amy countered rather lamely.

"For the…." Peter protested.

"The dog is considered state's evidence, the same way a burnt car is…..."  Jones rejoined.

"Mom would what to know what happened to her dog!" Peter barked.

"You'll get the dog back after the autopsy and various tests are done." The detective promised, then left discreetly.

"I suggest that I go over there and tell her" Amy suggested. "I was the one who was supposed to take care of him." Guilt started to affect her.

"How could you know that some pycho would kidnap and kill him?" Peter countered, trying to comfort her.

Back in Boston, Woody excused himself, as did Jordan, whose work beeper went off.

"Smoking isn't going to calm you" Max advised once the others left.

"Whatever" she coughed.

"What something to drink?"

"Sure"

He poured them both a drink.

"There ya go."

"Seems like this will turn into yet another cold case" Maxine brooded cynically.

"Don't get discouraged just yet."

"I hate those" she groaned. "having co-workers who've only been on the job for five minutes doesn't make them any easier to solve."

"I hated that too: running my ideas with some rookie detective who thinks he's hot stuff and wants everything done by the book."

"Sounds like a typical day at work for me." She puffed on her cigarette "My supervisor is young enough to be my son; See, I was retired, but  they called me back."

"I was fired" Max said simply. "My rule breaking caught up with me."

The phone interrupted them.

"I'll get it" he ran to get the phone.

"Hello?" a tentative male voice answered. "I'd like to speak to Maxine Gray: this is her son, Peter."

"Sure…here she is." Max told him, then whispered to Maxine. "It's your son, Peter."

"Yes?" She greeted him brusquely 

"Mom….it's about Socrates."

"Did he get lost? I was starting to suspect something when I asked your sister about taking him to the vet, yesterday."

"He…was lost."

"Has he been found?"

"Yes, but…." Peter took a deep breath, his siblings and wife stared at him. "Someone got to him first"

"He was kidnapped?" She knew were this was going.

"Yeah and the next time we saw him….he was…….gone." Peter had decided to tell his mother now because he figured that the police would try to contact her soon about the dog.

Maxine turned pale, hanging up the phone.

"We're going to Connecticut." She told the former detective. "My dog's been killed."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

"I suggest we go by car" Max said, seeing how much this meant to her.  Besides, the timing of the dog's death seemed too close to that of the bombing of his bar to be a mere coincidence.

"Fine by me." Quickly, they packed, and left Jordan a note.

Soon, they were on their way, arriving at her house some time later.

"Ma?" A surprised woman with long, curly hair greeted them wearing a robe over a loose sweat pants and shirt combination.

"Amy….this is Max Cavanaugh. He's going to investigate …what happened to Socrates. Where is he?"

"A vet from the CT humane society got him, …to see…ya know. I'm so sorry ma…"

"Max is a former police detective. Tell him exactly what happened to Socrates. I'll put …on some tea." Maxine said, while bottling up her emotions.

"Hi…thanks for coming!" Amy told him lamely as they sat down in the living room. "How do you know mom?"

"I was working with her on that case…."

"Oh yeah…"

"I'm sorry, but could you tell me how you found ..Socrates?" Max asked her gently.

"Without a head, branded like cattle, legless, and stabbed." She whispered, not wanting her mother, who was putting water on, to hear her.

"What was branded on him?"

"S-H."Amy tried to keep calm for her mother's sake. "The dog was mutilated after he died.".

"That's odd" Max commented.

"Come to think of it, it is" Amy agreed. "Any idea of what the S-H could mean?"

"Any number of things. Someone's initials, a place…or a shorthand for a legal term…Your mother mentioned on the way here that you were a judge."

"I'd have to look at my reference books" she told him, trying to think. "What about Santuary House? It's a program my mom is trying to set up, for abused kids." She started to brighten a bit, maybe they were on to something.

"How far along is it?"

"My mom has a few possible sites, and has started to apply for funding. Maybe there are people who don't want it to happen?"

"Well.. ….most of the people who know about it at this point, could use other more subtle means of sabotage." Maxine wryly commented as she put the tray, with cups, and tea on the living room table.

"I agree" Max said. "Show me where  you found the dog."

Grimly, Amy led him and Maxine outside, to an area of lawn to one side of the house.

"There……." The Judge pointed to a spot with her flashlight.  Street light-accentuated darkness contrasted with the bright spots of their flashlights.

"Did anyone see or hear anything?" He asked.

"The cops are working on that" Amy answered.

"Who let him go out alone?" Maxine demanded.

"Ma!"

"I wish Jordan were here." Max said. "She'd know how to extract information out of this spot."

"She's a medical examiner" Maxine explained to her confused daughter.

What was the time of death?"Max tried to paint a verbal picture. "

"About two days, when we found him"

Days passed, and friends of Maxine's in the Hartford police department told her that the vet ruled the cause of death as being a result of a deadly injection. Max, for his part, tried to piece together what happened. Thankfully, Jordan had decided to join him. Together, they reexamined the patch of lawn, flashlights in hand. She started to get the feeling that something was up.

She got out her special light, that could detect even faded blood stains.

"Nothing here" she pronounced. "Maybe, he threw something at the dog, knocking it out."

"What about a tranquilizer gun?" Max suggested. "There are ones made for dogs."

"He shoots the dog with it, then kills him later." She turned off the special light.

"The dog would growl, or howl for a bit, but the neighbors would see it as normal." He hypothesized.

"I need to see the dog's body" She announced.

"Jordan, you're not a vet."

"I deal with mutilated corpses every day!" The medical examiner protested, crossing her arms.

"But they're human" He carried the flashlight with his right hand, and rolled his eyes.

"The only mutilations Vets deal with are burnt cats" Jordan retorted, scowling at her father. "Besides, I studied comparative biology."

"Jordan, you're not going to pull off playing vet, as well as you pull off playing detective." He tried to be diplomatic.

"I'm not going to examine the dog for diseases, dad." She tried to explain. "A dog is a mammal, as you know."

"Glad  the money I spent on tuition didn't go to waste." He wrly told her.

"The way a knife penetrates or cuts through can't be that different" Jordan argued, ignoring her father's comment.

"If Socrates had been a pig, I'd agree with you." He smiled.

"Huh?"

"Pig flesh is similar to that of humans." He informed her with a self-satisfied grin.

"I can't believe you didn't ask for crime scene photos." She muttered, again walking around the area.

"Maxine's going through a hard time, right now, and friends in the police department or not: they're not gonna give her any."

"When are they going to release the body?"

"Soon, I think"

"I need to get to it before the…pet mortuary does." She buttoned her sweater.

"You want to break in" Max rolled his eyes, pacing a bit.

"Come on dad! We need to get to the bottom of this! Help Maxine get closure" Enthusiasm filled her eyes.

"Maybe Woody knows someone at Hartford PD. See if he can get us the crime photos."  

"Nah…..he doesn't think it's related."

As they talked, Maxine cried in her room.

"How's she doing?" She asked her father a mouth later over dinner at her place. The investigation of dog's death had stagnated.

"Better. We …talk on the phone sometimes."

"I see." She figured that they'd become friends.

Two weeks passed; Jordan went to see her father about another case.

"Jordan?" Max flushed with embarrassment, as he opened the door.

"Here is the wine……" A familiar face  in a robe said before noticing Jordan.

"Maxine…Jordan's here." He told the woman.

"Oh….." Maxine flushed, and gave a fake smile,  and wore her hair loose rather than in its usual bun.

"Sorry, I..uh..didn't know you had company….We can talk tomorrow." Jordan excused herself, going back to her car.  She had trouble picturing them as a couple.

"I give it a few months, at most." she thought. "No wonder dad has been neglecting the rebuilding of the bar!"

By the end of that year, they practically lived together at Maxine's house, and were about to get  a big break on the larger case.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Jordan opened the front door to her apartment and an unpleasant surprise: May O'Mallory. Today, the master thief sported a jogging outfit, and a purple wig; she was in her early fifties. During the course of her long career, Max nor any other police officer could ever even come close to catching her. Federal agents fared likewise.

"May O'Mallory I presume?" Jordan cautiously stepped forward.

"No your grandma. Come in, I'm not gonna kill ya. It's not my 'M.O' " She lounged on Jordan's couch sipping a drink from a shot glass.

"I've heard a lot about you…." Jordan told her coolly.

"Yeah…..I usually visit your father, but I don't want to deal with that self-righteous shrew he's shacked up with" The thief sighed.

"Not to mention the fact that a federal judge lives there too." Jordan retorted, hiding her surprise about the fact that May used to visit her father.

"Oh please, if I can visit your father, who was a cop, a judge is a piece of cake." May rolled her eyes.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Jordan asked sarcastically.

"I want you to send him a message for me."

"Why should I?"

"Good question……" The thief paced around. "Just tell him to back off"

"Off what???" Jordan squinted her eyes.

"He knows" the thief shrugged.

"Again why don't you tell him yourself" Jordan repeated.

"What do you want me to say?" May shrugged curtly "That I know some deep dark secret about your mother and that I'll tell you if you help me?" May sharpened her sarcastic tone. "What do you think this is, a soap opera?"

"Bitch! How dare you!!!" Jordan's face turned red, illuminating her enlarged and darkened pupils. All the repressed pain, anger, and hurt came up. She walked closer to the woman, barely keeping herself from striking her. "Go to hell!"

"Actually, that was what I'm going to say." the woman conceded, with a sigh, and pulled something from the pocket of her sweatpants. "Though my feud with your father will go to deathcon 99"

Not unlike a junkie about to get a fix, Jordan grabbed at the object; a gold pendant of the Virgin Mary, holding the infant Jesus, above three men in a flimsy boat, who were about to drown during a large storm

"This belonged to her" Jordan said breathlessly. " Dad bought it from some poor woman, whose husband was outta work . She's the virgin of …tin or something." The pendant seemed to bring her mother back. Quickly she turned it over. "It even has her initials.

"Copper…actually. I used to have 'associates' in Miami who wore silver dollar sized versions of those things made of eighteen carat gold." The gossipy tone belied the reality of May's manipulation. Max's refusal to tell Jordan much made her putty in the thief's hands, especially now that she could back up her promises.

"Where'd you get this? You know something about what happened to my mom?"

"No, I took it when I bonked your father" May retorted. " Of course I know stuff. Just don't mention this deal to him."

"Sure." Jordan's obsessions had metaphorically locked her good judgment in a dark dungeon within the deep crevices of her mind.

"And the message has to be in terms of action" With her machinations in place, May could be more demanding.

"Sure, I know just the thing" Jordan knew a few things that she could threaten her father with as a bluff.

Soon, May left; it was past eleven at night. Jordan left soon after, trying to see when would be a good time to go see her father, as she didn't want Maxine nor her family questioning anything. Wanting to guise it as a regular visit, she went to the house, hours after arriving at Hartford.

"Jordan? Great to see ya!" Amy cooed, in some loose clothes. as she opened the door. "We're about to have dinner." She noticed the circles under Jordan's eyes.

Soon, father and daughter said their hellos, and dinner started. All three of Maxine's children, daughter- in- law, and two grandchildren were there.

"What brought you all the way here?" Maxine asked, whilst serving herself mashed potatoes.

"I …wanted to see my dad." Jordan told them. dishonestly, getting herself a piece of pork chop, decorated with specks of oregano. "You found a way to keep him outta Boston" she teased partly in complaint, and partly in jest, grabbing a platter of wild rice from Vincent.

"Is it true you cut up dead people?" Lauren, Amy's young daughter asked. She had long brown hair, and sat next to her chagrined mother. Everyone else widened their eyes as well.

"Yeah. Sometimes, you need to check why…the person died." Max explained.

"But she's a real doctor?"

"Yeah. I should know, I paid the bills" he quipped with a smile, as Maxine laughed. Then continued to explain. "For example, sometimes, people die because they get too much medicine or the wrong one altogether. So, there exist special doctors like Jordan to look into those things" Max did not want to get in a discussion of homicide investigations with the young child.

"It's really sad for a person when they don't know the why or how of the death of someone they love" Jordan hinted.

"Sometimes, things aren't meant to be known" Max simply told her, swiveling his fork, and making patterns with his food.

"Oh for God's sake, Jordan!" Maxine scolded with anger, irritation, and concern for Max.. "Go air out your…tantrums on the Jerry Springer show! I won't stand for it here!" The social worker could be biting and sharp in her words when the mood struck her.

"Yeah maybe my real father was a four armed, fire-swallower." Jordan angrily retorted, slamming her fork.

"Jordan…." Max tried to be patient, despite his anger. She knew his buttons.

"Amy, how would you like it if there was stuff about your father's death that your mother knew, but would not tell you?"

"Well…uh…I'd understand…." Amy flubbed, uncomfortably; she didn't want to admit that she too would demand answers. "Given that I'm a mother and all.. .." Maxine glared at her lack of conviction .

"Bullshit!" Jordan yelled.

"Honey, why don't you go and do your homework?!" Amy ordered her daughter through clenched teeth.

"Fine" Deciding to listen from the stairwell, the little girl sighed and complied reluctantly.

"Meet me outside!" Jordan ordered, with fury as she got up from the table.

"Maybe you should continue your visit another time." Max's Bostonian accent thickened in his anger. He hated it when Jordan brought up the whole issue about her mother's murder.

"I'll be waiting!" Jordan huffed as she left and went to the front porch, slamming the front door with a slam that sharpened in the awkward silence, causing everyone to wince.

Max merely stared at his food.

As Jordan sulked, and pouted on the old, wooden bench she saw someone come to the door.

"Hi!....." The man greeted awkwardly. He had blue eyes, and brown hair. "I'm Sean Potter, Maxine's …boss. Is she home?" Sean found himself attracted to Jordan, who wore a simple outfit of jeans and tee-shirt. For him, seeing her compensated well for the discomfort of having to disturb Maxine at home. "And your…..?"

Jordan raised her eyebrows, and sighed in disbelief. "I guess the department isn't the only place recruiting young."

"Well..uh…she never really liked the supervisor gig." He told her lamely.

"She's in a crappy mood" She informed him, cynically "I had a fight with my dad during dinner."

"Oh….you're Max's daughter!" It was all he could think of to say, and felt like an idiot for doing so.

"Yep. Why do you wanna talk to her?"

"Something came up…..that's all I can say." Sean had gotten the call when while doing some much needed paperwork in his office. Soon, they both heard some heavy footsteps.

"Jordan!" Max bellowed, with rage, "I thought I said…..oh hi Sean…."

"I need to talk to Maxine." Sean told him, wondering why father and daughter had fought.

"Is it about the Kimberly case, isn't it?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"Let's just chalk it up to experience shall we?" Max told him, trying to be matter-of-fact. Sean had been referring to a certain Jane Kimberly who had gone into foster care after the mysterious murder of her mother. To this day, the poor girl had been obsessed with uncovering the mystery.

" Is it some kid who's mom was murdered?" Jordan asked, taking the hint very well.

"No……." He gave Sean a stern look, as if to say 'play along or else!'. As a cop, he had perfected this to an art form. "She's a chronic runaway, who likes to shoplift." The last think he wanted was for Jordan's obsessions to be wound up yet again.

"Look,…I just need to see Maxine." Sean didn't have the heart to lie to Jordan by playing along. Besides, he figured that Max's implicit threat could be seen as a mere bluff.

"Come in" Max growled, then came in himself, after giving Jordan a dirty look. Then he announced the new guest's presence ."Maxine! Sean is here."

Sighing, she went to greet him. "Yes?"

"It's about the Kimberly case."

Her eyes widened.

Discreetly, the three went somewhere private to talk.

"She's run away to catch her mother's killer."

"What?" While runaways were a routine worry for Maxine, the idea of a teenager trying to catch a murderer scared her.

"Did the foster family suspect anything?"

"No"

"According to the police report, her older half brother had been a major suspect" Max put in. He sometimes helped Maxine with her cases. "Any idea where he lives?"

"No…"

As they talked, Jordan decided to leave. Perhaps she should spy on her father before making threats. Quickly, she got into a hotel room, and booked a car at a rental office located on the lobby. Then she bought some wigs.

The first few days of this endeavor consisted of following Max to the supermarket, the nearby school, where he went to pick up Lauren, Maxine's office and other mundane routines. The fourth day proved to be a failure when as she watched for him to return to his car, Max, to her embarrassment, knocked loudly and with rage on the driver side window.

"What the hell are you doing???" He yelled, feeling betrayed.

"Uh...sitting in my car…it's a nice day." Jordan retorted as she opened the window.

"Did you think that I wouldn't notice??"

"You're up to something shady dad, and I know it!" Jordan bluffed.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Suddenly, a few days later, Max came to visit Maxine at her office; he had a pleasant surprise.

"I've got a lead." he told her with a smile.

With a jolt, she stopped her work, swiveled her chair, and took off her glasses.

"What?"

"Stars Hollow....it has the same initials as....you know..." He wore a dark jacket over a Red Sox shirt.

"Oh..yes.....it's one of those quaint... little New England towns..." Maxine answered wrly.

"I was thinking we should go check it out." While he hoped for clues, he figured that the killer wouldn't be there.

"You still think that whoever mutilated Socrates, is the murderer?"

"Call it a gut feeling" He had his hands in his pockets.

She nodded, understanding exactly what he meant.

"I'll go talk to Sean."

Sometime later, after checking into an Inn at Star Hollows, they went to a local diner.

"Ready to order?" A brown haired man wearing a lumberjack shirt, jeans, and a backwards baseball cap asked, pad and pencil in hand, when they had put down their menus.

"I'll have the grilled cheese sandwich" Maxine told him.

"I'd like the meatloaf" Max said.

"Coming right up!" the server, scribbled on his pad and walked away.

"How do we snoop around without people getting too 'curious'." Maxine asked the former detective, as she sipped some water. Like many large city dwellers, she harbored assumptions about small town people one of which was that of nosiness.

"If asked, say you're an author doing research for a novel" he told her, as his attention diverted to a man pogoing close by. The couple sat next to a window. Soon, the man tripped, brushed himself off, and entered the diner, pogo stick in hand.

"Kirk!" the server, known to his friends as Luke admonished with exasperation. "What have I told you about dragging your stick in here!

"Dirty!" exclaimed, a women, tongue in cheek. She sat on one of the stools at the counter, sipping coffee.

"Where else can I put it while I eat?" the man whined in a loud voice, while Max felt as if he were in the middle of a Green Acres episode.

"Double Dirty!" the women repeated.

"Cut that out!" Luke ordered, in a voice of annoyance. He also owned the diner, and worried that this exchange would scare away the tourists. "Just leave the damn thing outside, Kirk, no ones wants your stupid stick......Loralai!......don't say it!" He glared at the woman when he said the last part.

"Must be something in the water" Maxine commented dryly, symbolically pushing away her glass.

The next day, they went to the main Stars Hollow library to look at newspaper archives. Thankfully, many back issues of the local town paper were in microfiche and electronic form, courtesy of the town's historical society.

"What exactly are we looking for?" Maxine asked him

"Anything unusual......" he vaguely told her, as he put on his reading glasses; he was too absorbed in research to explain properly.

Hours or research proved unfruitful until Maxine found something.

"There seem to be stories about this mystery guy known as the town loner, who hangs in the nearby backwoods" she told him. "A while back, he did some sort of protest in a church, but it was peaceful. No one could make out what he was protesting against."

Max sat in thought. "We should check it out." Both had distrust of people who avoided human contact like that.

With that, they decided to do research on this mystery man. There was not much.

Later, the two returned to the diner, to talk to Luke, standing at the counter. They felt that he'd be a good source of information, as he'd hear things.

"Welcome back!" the diner owner said with a smile. "What can I get ya?"

"Some information would be nice" Max said, leaning his tall, chubby frame on the counter with his elbows. "What can you tell us about the town loner?"

"We're writers doing research for a mystery novel" Maxine added.

"How is knowing about some guy who sulks around, carries a backpack, and lives in the hills gonna help you with your novel?" Luke asked cynically, not believing them. News had already spread about their trip to the library, where some of his regulars worked. Rumor mills worked overtime.

"We were thinking about basing one of the characters on him." the social worker responded.

"Why?" Luke astutely asked them in doubt. "Aren't they're enough mystery novels with psychopathic loners, who play stupid cat and mouse games instead of just killing the main character in the first place?"

"We plan to add a Kafkaesque twist to our novel" Maxine improvised. She'd heard her son Vincent, a writer, use that phrase a few times.

"Is that right?" He'd vaguely heard of Kafka, but wasn't buying their story.

"Could you tell us anything about the protest he mounted?" Max cut in.

"Well, no one could read his banner nor make out what he was sayin'." The local shrugged smugly.

"Thanks" Max said, as the two left the diner.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

"So much for that" Maxine sighed as Max put an arm around her shoulders.

"We just gotta talk to more people"

"Yes, he and I gooutfor beers every night" a surly Inn concierge, named Michel retorted in a French accent, when Max asked him about the town loner the next day. The barfly glared at the man, who stood behind the front desk.

"Is there a problem?" The couple recognized the woman from the diner. She wore a Navy blue skirt and matching blouse and was one of the Inn's managers.

"They want to know about the Town Loner" Michel informed her. "Perhaps we should have included that information in the brochure." His voice and face dripped with sarcasm. He found their inquiries to be a waste of his time.

" For your novel?" Luke , Kirk, and others had told her of their questioning.

"Yes" Maxine said.

"I'm afraid I can't really help you" she told them politely, though suspicious of their story.

"Thank you" Maxine shrugged.

"Maybe we could question the guy who talks to mailboxes." Max snorted in her ear. "They might know somethin'."

TBC


End file.
